AHMAD AND WINNIE SCREAMED as they tumbled and tossed down a watery slide.
“Where are we going?” Winnie called out, somewhere near Ahmad’s ear. They were tangled up together, the precious fish slapping its tail against Ahmad’s stomach and not at all helping with his queasiness.
“I don’t know!” Ahmad hollered back.
Moments later, though, they rolled out onto hard cobblestones. Ahmad glanced up, recognizing the flying car parked near them.
“We’re back out,” he murmured, awestruck.
“And we still have our prize!” Winnie, looking a little wild-eyed and windblown, still managed to grin as she reached for the fish. Moments later, though, her face fell. “Huh? What happened to it?”
There was nothing resting against Ahmad’s shirt but a shimmering jewel. Ahmad reached for it and held it up to the light. It glistened, first blue and then red, catching the light from the neon doorway. No key. And no lock.
He was disappointed but couldn’t take his eyes off of the stone in his palm. “It’s beautiful,” he said in a hushed voice. “Do you think this is part of the monkey’s eye?”
“Wait, you think this is part of the puzzle?” Winnie looked troubled. “Why would they give us some little extra piece instead of another carving?”
“I’m sure it fits in there somewhere,” Ahmad reasoned. He reached for his pocket, but Winnie reached out and grabbed his wrist.
“Not here!”
“Oh, right. Sorry,” Ahmad said, embarrassed. “So what do we do now, then?”
“What else?” Winnie stood and held out a hand to help him up. “We go back to Madame Nasirah’s shop and see if we can figure this out.”
Moments later, Ahmad was holding on to his seat rest for dear life as Winnie gleefully steered the flying car through the pink sky of Paheli.
“Do you really have to step on it?” Ahmad groaned. His tummy hadn’t quite recovered from their last mission. But Winnie gleefully stomped on the gas.
In spite of her questionable driving, it did feel freeing to be out in the open sky. The oppressive nostalgia fell away from Ahmad’s shoulders as he stared down on the city, watching the sun glint off the buildings—and, beneath their imposed frames, the familiar glass panes of New York City skyscrapers and monuments.
“Home is there,” he whispered. “Waiting for us.”
Winnie nodded, her face grim. “It is. And it knows we are here, fighting for it, so we can’t give up, not now.”
Ahmad turned to her, able to ask the question that had been weighing on him since the previous night. “You still feel it? That something is really wrong?”
“Of course I do! It’s too quiet. Madame Nasirah is so twitchy, too. It makes me nervous.”
“It might not be her fault,” Ahmad pointed out. “She doesn’t seem to have much control in this world.”
Winnie sighed, and the rickshaw picked up even more speed. “Maybe. I don’t know. This world has me on edge. I don’t like it. It doesn’t feel like you can trust anyone here.”
“You can trust me,” Ahmad said firmly. “And I can trust you. We have each other and that’s what we need. We promised, remember?”
“Right.”
For a moment, they smiled at each other. From behind them, there came a piercing wail.
“Oh no!” Ahmad moaned.
“Are you kidding me?” Winnie exclaimed.
Because there, in their rearview mirror, was a car that—in spite of its ability to hover and flashy side emblem—could only be one thing, and the voice that bellowed in the moment afterward confirmed their suspicions.
“THIS IS THE SAND POLICE FORCE OF PAHELI. YOU ARE INSTRUCTED TO TURN YOUR VEHICLE TO CRUISE AND FIND A SAFE PLACE TO LAND TO BE QUESTIONED BY THE OFFICERS FOR ILLEGAL VEHICLE USE.”
Ahmad leaned his head out the window. “We’re players! We’re supposed to be here!”
The shadowy figures in the police car did not move. After a moment’s pause, the voice repeated, “THIS IS THE SAND POLICE FORCE OF PAHELI—”
“Forget it.” Winnie jammed her heel on the gas pedal and the car lurched forward. “This is another Architect trick, I know it. Maybe this is about that jewel we just got. We need to get out of here.”
The police car buzzed behind them. Ahmad anxiously leaned out the window. “We’re players!” he called toward the car, cupping his hands around his mouth. “We’re supposed to be out here!”
“Give it a rest, Ahmad!” Winnie hollered behind him. “They don’t seem to care!”
What happened next had him quickly tugging his head back into the car. Two great cannons sprouted from within the police’s car hood and deliberately aimed at his window.
“Whoa! They are going to shoot at us! Step on it, Winnie!”
Winnie pumped the gas and yanked hard on the wheel. They careened to the side, just as a great ball of fire shot out past where they had been and slammed into the side of a flying billboard. It exploded, glitzy bulbs and bits of screen raining out over the city.
“Hold on!” Winnie gritted out.
They raced through the sky, angling between buildings. The police car continued to volley out shots behind them. Ahmad hissed through his teeth as one narrowly bounced off the hood of their car.
“Ahmad! I need you to tell me if we’re going the right way!” Winnie called. “I can’t do this and think about directions at the same time. We need to shake them somehow.”
“Okay, but—”
They both froze as a second whine joined the first car behind them, and a smug voice announced, “FUGITIVES OF JUSTICE, YOU ARE EVADING FOUR OFFICERS OF THE LAW OF PAHELI. YOU ARE ADVISED TO REMOVE YOURSELF FROM YOUR VEHICLE BEFORE WE CONTINUE WITH DUE FORCE.”
“Fugitives?” Ahmad squeaked. He glanced down at the shimmering jewel in his hand. So he was right. This must be what they were after. But how could they be thieves and fugitives if they were supposed to find it?
Either way, he couldn’t just sit there and let them be fired at like this.
“Due force? They’re already shooting at us! Worse than the cops in New York. Ahmad, what are you doing?” The last was said in her now familiar, panicked shriek. Ahmad was halfway out the window.
“Playing it their way,” he yelled back. “Hey, you guys in the clown cars! Bet you can’t do this! Winnie, head through there!”
Winnie followed his pointing finger and gasped. “The Minaret!” It had its own raised platform in between two narrowly set, leaning buildings. If they could scrape through one of those passages, they would be able to make it back to Madame Nasirah’s shop without their troublesome shadows.
The police cars sped up behind them. “Predictable,” Ahmad yelled. “They are part of this world. Of course they can’t resist a good challenge.”
He leaned out the door, jeering at them, as Winnie jetted toward the passage. Ten feet . . . five feet . . .
“Ahmad, now!”
One final blast jetted out from the police car, colliding with the base platform of the buildings. It crumpled, heavy marble and thick wire swatting one of the cars out of the air like a fly. The others staggered and stumbled to avoid the debris.
Ahmad yanked himself back in as Winnie jerked the car to the side.
“We did it!” Winnie whooped.
And not a moment too soon. They heard the telltale screech and slide of skidding wheels and shattering glass behind them.
Winnie yanked on the brake and they slid in front of the alleyway, panting.
“That . . . was . . . awesome,” Winnie breathed.
Ahmad was too busy looking at the front of the tea shop. It was too dark. “Winnie, I think something’s wrong. Come on, quick!”
Before they could reach the front door, though, a shadow fell over them. Winnie gasped and grabbed Ahmad’s arm.
“It can’t be night already, can it?” she whispered.
Ahmad swallowed hard and braced himself for that awful pressure.
But instead, a screen scrolled outward, blotting out part of the artificial sky. It was a small black square that seemed as though it was painted on. Ahmad and Winnie stared at it.
“What—” Ahmad started.
And then, a figure slowly emerged from the black. An unseen camera zoomed outward from her small smirk and leopard-print bucket hat, and then outward to her camouflage vest and high pink boots. By the time it had panned out for a full-body shot, she was stepping out of the screen and down a set of unfolding stairs.
“The MasterMind,” Winnie hissed. “What is she doing here?”
Ahmad couldn’t answer her. Together, they waited as the girl approached them.
What could possibly go wrong now?